Thanksgiving

Sometimes it's difficult to be truly thankful after having a stroke. Our Thanksgiving feast may differ from the usual bill of fare. We may start off with an appetizer of anger, followed by an entrée of denial, and a hefty helping of depression for dessert. However, we have the power to substitute this intolerable menu with hope, acceptance, growth, and healing.

Every Thanksgiving I prepare and serve a turkey along with all the trimmings. Sweet potatoes are included because that's the way my mother prepared the feast when I was young. Yet, no one has eaten the sweet potatoes in the 25 years I have been preparing this annual banquet. You would think I would finally learn not to bother to serve the orange tubers covered in brown sugar.

Last year, I purposely forgot the sweet potatoes in the kitchen. After the prayer, the family sat in dead silence; not a plate passed, not a napkin placed in a lap, all eyes were on me. I smiled and welcomed them to begin.

"Hey, what's going on? "Where are the sweet potatoes?" They demanded.

"I know you don't like them so I decided not to make them this year," I calmly answered.

"It isn't whether we eat them or not! It's part of our family tradition. We have to have the sweet potatoes, your homemade cranberry relish AND the jellied cranberry slipped perfectly whole from the can. We have to have the turkey, dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes, celery with cream cheese, and all the rest. Our table HAS to look the same every year!"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it's our quirky Thanksgiving meal and something we look forward to every year," one exasperated family member explained.   

My quizzical look turned to annoyance. I certainly didn't mean to deny my family. I acted a bit dejected after cooking all day and no one was eating. But this performance didn't last long. I went to the kitchen and brought the sweet potatoes to the table. Their faces lit up and we laughed.

They had hoped for the sweet potatoes and I had long ago accepted the custom. For me, growth appeared when everyone realized something was missing and it had nothing to do with stroke. The healing was abundant too, as I was able to prepare the feast as I had for many years. I merely needed a little help in getting the turkey and other dishes to and from the oven. I duly designated other necessary kitchen duties too. Perhaps this team effort will grow as my family grows and they will learn to make and serve the annual Thanksgiving fare, sweet potatoes and all.

Find the humor in your holiday tradition.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Cleo